“Really? Is it your opinion that Dr. Golgecci is a necrophiliac? What do you think of the odds of me being more interested in your lifeless corpse when it comes to sex? Do you have these opinions about everyone?”

Chuck hadn’t really expected the Spanish Inquisition. He typically wrote rather sensational and often wrong headed fairly opinionated diatribes which he thought were entertaining. He was very fond of Holly all things considered. Sure her temper was a little trying at times but it existed because she cared. And honestly, that was something Chuck hadn’t experienced often enough. Probably my own fault, he thought.

Holly was right that Golgecci brought them together. In a moment of optimism, Holly submitted a cheerful essay answer to what she wanted in a lover. Tinkering with his own view of the cosmos, Chuck had done the same. It was weird how they had read the same books and the book conversation happened kind of as more of a hunch than a moment where they had to talk about something. As a moment, it might well have been perfect.

But can the instincts powered by a similar taste in fiction really indicate the level of compatibility Chuck was looking for? He wasn’t the type to let an issue lie. Nor would he be satisfied if he found on his deathbed that somehow he had settled before finding his unique path through life. But then, you don’t meet a Holly everyday, she’s the kind of person you want to see again tomorrow too. Still, if a wrench were ever found in the plans of Holly and Chuck, the wrench would belong to Chuck, the tinkerer.

Holly was loyal to the people who had benefitted her, to a fault Chuck would say. Golgecci doesn’t become a saint just because he matched Holly and Chuck’s email addresses. Chuck was grateful but skeptical. Chuck was always skeptical. And by the way, he thought to himself, don’t forget to look into Crow, Sylvester Crow. Some loony nearly killed the modern day Christ that was Golgecci. Don’t martyr him before I figure him out, that’s all I ask.

He looked up at Holly’s furious flushed face, which was just a tightened version of her worried flushed face or her horny face, also flushed. She probably wouldn’t want him to make all those connections between her genuinely different emotional states.

“You’re right, Holly.” And then he moved his hands reassuringly with the intent to stir up the same distraction in Holly as he was feeling right then. Golgecci could wait.

Sylvester Crow struggled against the arms of his captors, his gun falling uselessly from his numb hands. He was frothing at the mouth in fury. The charged electric gloves of the police reduced Sylvester’s experience of the outside world to a warm swollen lack of sensation, the sense of something going dreadfully wrong eliminated by a spring-loaded injection.

Dr. Dream as the press liked to nickname Golgecci was visibly shaken and pulled himself together quickly to resume his statesman-like affect. “It must be more upsetting to live with an unsound mind than to be assaulted by someone with that condition,” he soundly proclaimed, earning additional respect for his quickly regained composure and courageous statment.

“People like him used to be thrown into federal pound-you-in-the-ass prison for attempted murder. Before that it was a capitol punishment of death to the criminal. The world has gone soft. Don’t you think, doctor?” suggested the sergeant on duty.

“Nonsense, sir. Although I very much appreciate you and your men’s interference on this matter, I’m very pleased we’ve moved passed such barbaric notions. Sure if a sensible man were to commit such a horrendous crime, then that man should be punished. But that relies heavily on the assertion that man has will enough to choose not to do so. No man in his right mind would make that choice. It follows immediately then, that this man needs help and upon being rebalanced, he might be reintroduced to society some day.”

“I just don’t trust Golgecci, that’s all I’m saying.” Chuck Underwood hated talk of dreams and hopes. Life was life and that’s what it was. You can want a room full of money with hot women in skimpy outfits feeding you scrambled eggs in the morning, but that wasn’t likely to happen. And for the guy it does happen too, that guy is probably gay and doesn’t appreciate it properly. Life had that ironic property. Chuck could agree to that.

“Are you doing that thing you do again?” Holly demanded. “That thing where no matter what I say, you’re not going to agree with it! Because Golgecci is the one that put our two names together in the first place and up until the present conversation, I would have said that I’m very happy with the results. And he’s earned his doctorate, Chuck. It’s Dr. Golgecci.” Holly wasn’t in the mood for this like she never was. Chuck would just come in and disagree with anything. It didn’t matter what the subject was. There was no institution too safe: religion, politics, or anything. “Also, our country is not trying to big brother us. Life is a hell of a lot better than 1984. Crime is down. People are being sent to the proper places for reentry into society. God Chuck, you’ve got me swearing again.”

“Look, Holly. I’m not trying to make you mad. You’re probably even right, like normal. I’m just saying that doing good things doesn’t prevent him from having an ulterior motive, and specifically a criminal ulterior motive. He’s been doing a wonderful thing, but disproportionately he’s been doing his wonderful things for members of the government or at least it seems that way. Everyday, there’s a new alderman, judge, senator, or pope saying how wonderful it is that Dr. Golgecci took the time to fulfill their dreams an others. But most people aren’t in the government. Most people are just like you and I and you don’t see that.”

“But Chuck, he helped us out. Maybe not everyone but he helped us. Frankly, I’m running out of patience and I’m going to bed. If you want to stay on this subject, can you do it quietly? I’ve got work in the morning and it’s a big deal tomorrow.” And with that she brushed off yet another wild idea Chuck came up with.

In tough economic times, people need a reason to hope. That is why Dreams Inc. was created, to give people that hope. Dreams Inc. was a small start up company with an internet based community outreach campaign. But no matter how many dreams came true, some dreams were always being snuffed out. Let’s raise the ratio, thought Dr. Golgecci the founder of Dreams Inc. Let’s make more dreams come true.

See, there was a pattern to many of the dreams people had. Just turning forty or fifty and in some cases as young as twenty-five and hitting the economic downturn people started to feel in addition to the pinch of their pockets that their dreams were never going to come true. They were never going to play on a Charlottesville stage. They were never going to hit a home run. They were never going to be heard by the government. They were never going write their magnum opus.

The world was quickly becoming censored and monitored. As privacy dropped, people tucked their dreams even further in the pockets of their souls even as science reduced the size a soul could be daily. And so some dreams were just being cast aside. This wasn’t the age of savages. There was no room for fancy, dilly dally, fanaticism, or rampant imagination. When the light and untrained parts of our minds worked well, things were fun and light and pleasant. But human nature had a tendency to murder, rape, and plot. Squelching American freedoms saves lives, period.

Some dreams were fulfilled easily when Golgecci processed enough dreams to find harmony between various dreams. Many people dreamed of music, and so Golgecci formed bands and sent out the proper information connecting wannabes of different instruments with similar genre preferences. He coordinated writers groups to help tease out those long lost magnum opuses. There were the nymphomaniacs, the xenophiles, the xenophobes, and the narrower minded people looking for more of their ilk. And he processed them with the swift determination reserved for each and every dream.

He fought for privacy from the government and won. Dreams weren’t meant to be government property. His work was a social safety valve. Also, many of the dreams were just as likely to come from unhappy members of the existing government as anybody else, and Golgecci made sure each official understood the amazing sensation of a dream come true. He litigated and lobbied a little more freedom into the American private life.

Crime plummeted, as drug possession and thought crimes could no longer be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. But the government and the people were living their dreams and a high teenager or minimum wage worker was the least of their worries. As the police learned due process all over again, and the internal security agents relaxed, Golgecci killed a young woman and put her in his refrigerator fulfilling one of his dreams immediately and preparing to fulfill a couple more. Dreams are hard to come by, and harder still for a necrophiliac. But it is an amazing feeling to have a dream come true.